I should have known that we never really had a future. And that I had been played like a blind man in a maze. There is no denying that I was a fool. A fool who stood rooted and stared in disbelief and awe as you conveniently strutted away and disappeared by the corner. A fool, who lost hours of sleep that very night staring into the empty ceiling, admiring the air of confidence that had emanated as you broke the silence with words that eventually turned into a toxic spiralling mixture of anger and confusion within.  A fool who hastily dismissed the slightest inkling that an estrangement was imminent. I should have known better, but I did not.

It’s funny how I was physically present on days when you were a pathetic broken being filled with desolation and self-pity but you have never witnessed any of my struggles, much less give me a hug or a pat in the back. It’s funny how I thought I was addressing your physical needs with paper money and late night cuddles when you had eyes perpetually glued to the device that croaks every so often. It’s funny how I failed to notice that your device was filled with names of other men whom you claimed to be your colleagues when I knew you were unemployed. It’s funny how I was never the one who has the final say.

I lay on the bed every night wasted and wondering what went wrong, only to fall into a slumber after spending god-knows-how-long on your social media profiles where you posted pictures of your new lover at places I once brought you.

I guess I am a fool. Unlike you. You, who picked yourself up fairly quickly, are strong and I can never compete with that strength that I once loved.



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s